


Glad

by SweetSamOfMine (AudreeJo)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drinking, Drunk Sam, Episode Related, Episode: s10e03 Soul Survivor, Gen, Post-Episode: s10e03 Soul Survivor, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 05:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2497031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreeJo/pseuds/SweetSamOfMine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has a drink or two as he processes through all that happened while curing Dean of being a demon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glad

Sam closed the door behind him and sat an empty glass and a bottle of scotch on his bedside table. It wasn’t that he wasn’t glad Dean was, seemingly, back to his regular self again.

He was. He really  _was_.

How could he not be after the terror of what Dean had been as a demon? So _yes_ , he was glad.

‘Glad’ was there.

'Happiness' was probably there, too. It had to be there, right? That’s what you’re supposed to feel when you are reunited with the brother you thought was dead.

The issue was that this was one of the most fucked up reunions Sam could imagine, and he’d seen enough in his life that he could imagine a lot of fucked up things. No one tells you how you’re supposed to react after the brother you thought was dead turns out to be a demon, instead, and then chases you with a hammer around your house, trying to kill you like it’s his new favorite game.

_“C’mon out, Sammy!”_

Sam could still hear that name being shouted in Dean’s ragged voice. The sound rang in his ears no matter how hard he tried to shake it.

_“Let’s finish this game!”_

He may never be able to hear Dean say that name the same way again. But… It wasn’t Dean, though. Not really. Right? He was a demon,  _a demon!_  Sam needed to just keep reminding himself that. Dean would never do or say the things he did had he not been a demon…

Sam poured himself a glass of scotch and threw it back a bit more quickly than he probably should have. He had been too busy injecting his brother with purified blood all day to actually eat much and he hadn’t gotten himself anything when he grabbed take-out for Dean.

Sam felt glad, though. He really  _did_. Because if he wasn’t glad, what did that mean? He’d never wish Dean to be dead so if he was not glad that Dean was back to normal, what was the alternative?

There wasn’t one.

If he wasn’t glad, what kind of a brother would that make him? Sam was the one who had sat by hour after hour, taking on insult after insult, blow after blow, letting it all roll off his back because he was certain that it wasn’t his brother talking at the time. Now, Dean was just down the hall eating a greasy burger, fries, and a slice of pie. That was the goal. That was the point. This was what Sam had so tirelessly worked towards ever since Dean’s body had disappeared from his room: to save Dean and return him to where he belonged, the brothers back in the bunker, together, back to normal.

 _That_  was his brother.  _That_  guy. The one who made a snarky joke when Sam brought food to his room just a few minutes ago. “Awe, you actually got pie. ‘Bout time!” There was no growl in voice, nothing sinister in his tone.  _That_  was Dean.

There was a difference. A big one. So Sam was glad, for sure. This was the follow-through after the game winning shot.

Sam poured another glass of scotch. This one went down a lot easier than the first.

The Dean down the hall probably would have never said the stuff about Mom. Not a chance. Sam knew more about demons and their manipulations than probably anyone, and telling him their mom would still be alive had he never been born was just a really useful tool. Nothing more.  _True_ , only Dean could have known that was one of Sam’s worst fears, that it was a thought that had plagued him for most of his childhood and still entered his nightmares from time to time, even now. But that doesn’t mean that the real Dean believes that. The demon part of him was just using what was at his disposal.

Right?

Same with the “manning up” stuff. It was because Dean knows Sam so well that he was able to hone in on Sam’s most vulnerable insecurities as the demon, how Sam always feared he was letting Dean down in some way. The real Dean doesn’t actually think Sam can’t man up. The guy down the hall can’t actually believe Sam has never come through once in his life. Not after everything they’ve been through together.

Had to be the demon.

Sam’s hand shook as he poured his third glass. This one he sipped as he leaned against the headboard of his bed.

That was definitely just the demon part of Dean talking at the time, because while in that dungeon Dean had said they were never really brothers, and Sam knew regular Dean would never say that…. Never say that and  _mean_  it, at least. Dean may have said something  _like_  that in the past in a rage, but the demon more than likely just picked up on how hurtful that would be to throw back at Sam. He was trying to deter the treatment, for God’s sake. Demons were so fucking manipulative, afterall.

Sam took a swig from his glass.

Okay, it  _was_  because the cure was working that Dean was able to get free and ultimately chase Sam with a hammer. That couldn’t be overlooked, but he was still a demon. Sam wasn’t sure he’d ever seen another demon escape a devil’s trap and sigil-ed handcuffs before, but he’d also only ever tried curing just one other demon in his life. As far as Sam could tell from the lore, you’re a demon until the cure is done. So there’s no reason for Sam to think it was Dean becoming more human that lead him to attacking him, despite what Dean said, himself. Again, the demon part was pulling out all the stops to make sure Sam was running scared.

Regular Dean, the guy Sam had restored, may have been violent in the past, but never like he just had been with the hammer, running around the bunker. He has hit Sam,  _yeah_. Laid him out flat a few times, beat him unconscious once or twice, sucker punched him occasionally when his temper flared,  _sure_. But it was never premeditated. Probably. Dean had never taken joy in doing it, not like the demon had, when stalking Sam through the shadowy hallways of the bunker like it was some sick, entertaining power-play.

Sam should be glad.

His glass was empty again.

It was a really good thing Sam had brought his brother back because the terrors he had gone through with Dean were over, behind him, in the past. He didn’t have to think about this night ever again because of the monster Dean had been was gone. As were all the issues he had tried to stir up while that monster. That was cause for relief. That was cause for celebration.

So Sam needed to be glad.

He reached again for the bottle of scotch.


End file.
